His After-Hours Mistress. Trish Wylie

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the kiss and hoped he would put it down to the warmth of the day.

      ‘So in future you’re Miss Prim, is that it?’ His smoky blue eyes teased her. ‘Or would it be Miss Untouchable?’

      ‘I happen to take my work seriously,’ she reminded him fiercely. ‘I wouldn’t have got where I am quite so quickly if I didn’t.’

      ‘Tell me about your ex-fiancé. I’m interested in him.’

      Lucinda sighed and leaned back in her chair. ‘There’s not much to tell.’

      ‘Four years was a long relationship. Time enough surely for you to both know your own minds?’

      Lucinda nodded. ‘I was so sure he was the one.’

      ‘Most people get married or at least move in together in far less time than that,’ he observed. ‘Which perhaps suggests that he was never the right person for you. Did you ever have reservations?’

      ‘None at all,’ she answered, feeling the pain of their parting all over again. ‘Simon and I met at university. It wasn’t love at first sight or anything like that. But we gradually began to see more of each other and I suppose we slipped into the relationship. Nevertheless I did love him; I could see a future for us together. But obviously he didn’t. I don’t know who he left me for and I don’t really care.’ But she had cared when it happened and she had tried to find out who the other woman was. Not that it would have done her any good. Simon had gone, deserted her. All the love he had sworn for her had sailed into thin air.

      Zane reached across the table and put his hand over hers. ‘You’re well rid of him. You deserve better.’

      And when she looked into the smoky depths of his eyes Lucinda saw compassion and wondered if he was suggesting himself. He didn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance. She definitely felt attracted to him, but that was pure sex, nothing more. When, or if, she ever did fall in love again he would have to be someone special, someone whom she could trust and love unconditionally, and who felt the same way. Zane Alexander most definitely didn’t fit that bill.

      She pulled her hand away, trying to do it so that he didn’t realise how much he had the power to disturb her. And she broke off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouth.

      ‘Anyway, we’re not here to talk about ourselves,’ she said firmly.

      ‘So what else is there to talk about?’

      Anything but themselves!

      ‘Would you like to tell me what you’re thinking of doing to my bedroom, for instance?’ he asked with a hint of a smile.

      Swift heat flooded her. Bedrooms were as much a taboo subject as Simon and her manless state. She still thought of silver and grey and ice-blue, although maybe the ice part wasn’t right any more. He was a man of passion. Maybe hot red or fiery purple would make more sense.

      Careful not to let him see that the thought of discussing his bedroom disturbed her, she looked at him with cool green eyes. ‘You’ve not yet given me time to come up with any ideas.’

      ‘There’s a reason behind that,’ he announced calmly.

      Lucinda frowned.

      ‘Before you can design for me you need to get to know me. Properly know me, I mean. Isn’t that the way you usually work?’

      ‘I like to get a general idea of what clients like and dislike, a little about their personalities perhaps, but—’

      ‘That’s exactly what I mean,’ Zane declared in triumph. ‘My personality! Can you honestly say that you know me yet?’

      She knew enough, thought Lucinda. Enough to want to steer clear of him, to avoid him like the plague, in fact. Even now, sitting here, talking to him, she couldn’t ignore his sexuality. Even his hair was sexy. It was dry now and back to its golden colour, totally untamed, and she wanted to run her fingers through it and stroke it into place. Crazy, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself.

      ‘No, you can’t, can you?’ he said when she didn’t answer. ‘We need a few days together before you start the thinking process. We’ll go into Castries together, and you can look all you like at whatever it is you need to look at, but primarily it should be pleasure, not work. We’ll dine there—I know a perfect restaurant—and then—’

      ‘Stop!’ It was Lucinda’s turn to hold up her hand. ‘Don’t run away with yourself. My time’s money, don’t forget. The longer I’m here, the more it’s going to cost you.’

      ‘I don’t mind,’ he declared indifferently, just as she had known he would. ‘I haven’t had a proper holiday in years.’

      ‘This isn’t a holiday,’ she reminded him.

      His voice went an octave lower. ‘Wouldn’t you like it to be?’

      Yes, she would, very much so. But it was far too dangerous. Zane was dangerous. The most dangerous man she had ever met. He was sex on two legs. He did dangerous things to her without even trying.

      Even now, sitting here in this most beautiful of places, she was indifferent to her surroundings. Zane was the whole focus of her attention. He had made it that way. And, try as she might, she could not rid herself of him. He filled her thoughts to the extent of all else. How she was going to complete the job she was being paid for she did not know.

      ‘You haven’t answered my question.’ The low rumble of his voice as he leaned slightly forward reverberated through her nerve-endings as though he was touching each one of them singly, as though he was tuning her body for—for whatever he wanted to do to her. Lucinda felt her breathing quicken and she was afraid to look at him.

      ‘Business and pleasure don’t mix,’ she declared firmly. Was it she who’d said that before, or Zane? She couldn’t remember. Nothing in her mind was clear any more.

      ‘It seems to me that you need taking in hand, Lucinda Oliver,’ he said sternly. ‘You’re far too serious. Come, eat some more breakfast and we’ll go out and have fun.’

      Castries was a mixture of ancient and modern—glass, concrete and steel vied with wooden buildings with graceful balconies and latticework. ‘It’s because they’ve had a series of fires over the centuries,’ Zane told her when Lucinda commented on the diversity of the architecture.

      The market-place was busy and colourful and full of the aroma of spices and tropical fruit. Everyone was friendly and talkative and Lucinda began to relax and enjoy herself. Zane too was being friendly and nothing more. He made no demands of her and for this she was grateful.

      They left the main shopping area until last and when Lucinda lost herself in swathes of materials and grew ecstatic over oceans of beautiful furniture Zane left her to her own devices. He was either bored, she decided, or being tactful. Whichever, she appreciated it and when she finally decided that she’d had enough she was weighed down with brochures and samples and ideas.

      They had arranged to meet at a restaurant he had pointed out to her earlier. The best one in Castries, so Zane had said. An attentive waiter took away her packages and showed her to the bar where Zane was waiting for her. At first she did not see him; then she discovered him sitting in a deep armchair—and opposite him, laughing СКАЧАТЬ